“The Fly” is Gearing Up for Another Win

Futures are indicating a slightly higher opening tomorrow. You are without an edge, totally exposed to the depravity of monstrous money managers. The “little guy”, steam-boating his way throughout life in search for a better form of transport. You’re stuck in a nightmarish, Kafkaesque, circle jerk. You’re waiting for earnings, Federal Reserve speeches, Chinese horseshit, German horseshit, American politics, masonic plans revealing itself through encoded messages.

Simply put, most of the time, trading the market for short term moves, is no different from pissing in the wind. When the wind turns on you, you’ll be pissing in your own faces in no time at all.

This is a frustrating business. Out of 100 people who I started with, 18 long years ago, maybe 5 are still running money. The ones who quit are now grateful to be out, but secretly regretful that they didn’t try harder because the money is significant.

My relationship with the market is love-hate. When times are good, I am punching holes into the fucking fucktarded faces of people–floating and shit in a most vainglorious fashion, shrouded by large black plumes of incense–impaling weaker men with my cane-sword. Right now I am hating this work. It feels tedious, boring, repetitive and entirely wasteful of my god given talents.

My competitive nature is only outstripped by my sympathy for the hideously deformed reader, dialing into the internets to glean a few morsels of information to help him escape the horrors of his crime-ridden housing tenement.

“The Fly” does it for the people, generously and gloriously, punching this stocked market in the fucking face for the benefit of ordinary, idle, dog-faced, base thinkers.